What's Said is Said (Can Never be Undone)
by archergwen
Summary: "Was their real love behind the glitter or would they leave each other when the spell was gone? For one loved the other more than life. But were they the caster or the spelled?" Sarah Williams should have guessed her dreams would never be normal.
1. Victorious?

Sarah returned home, victorious but silent.  
She had learned her lessons. She would not take things for granted nor pretend that life could be fair. It took a while to put into practice and she caught herself saying "it's not fair." With help from her friends Above and Underground, she stopped whining every time she didn't get as she wanted.  
Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and Ludo peeked through her window every week, more if she called. It was great to have an ear to Underground gossip.  
And advice.  
The week after she got back, she had the first dream.  
There was a couple dancing. In love and nothing could tear them apart. But there was something wrong, a twinge, a sense of corruption. Magic tainted them. But how? And was their real love behind the glitter or would they leave each other when the spell was gone? For one loved the other more than life. But were they the caster or the spelled?  
She awoke with a sense of urgency, that she needed to do something. But what?  
She called her friends.  
"Hoggle, Didymus, what do you know of dreams? Can they be sent?"  
"Very little, m'lady, and I don't know," responded the fox.  
"If any one were to know, it'd be that rat, Jareth," chimed the goblin. "We can take ya to him?"  
"No, no. I can't ask him. I can't talk to him. It's probably just a dream. But if anything happens, I'll ask for help. And should you need me-"  
"We'll call," Hoggle cut in. "'nd we'll bring Ludo next time."  
"His Majesty required aid in rebuilding a fallen part of his castle."  
Sarah smiled. "Thanks guys. I promise next time things won't be so serious."  
They weren't. Occasionally there were some boy drama, some stress, and some moments when she used them to fudge homework assignments.  
One night, a week or two before her senior prom, she had a dream. When she woke up, it was the same feeling as the first, only greater, the same idea of love mistaken.  
She woke up and started writing. It slowly turned into a play. She turned it into her Drama teacher for an assignment. He sent it to a publisher and at eighteen Sarah was published for the first time.  
The Linda Williams talent for acting, it seemed, had manifested itself in her daughter's writing.


	2. The Dream

_Everything was dark.  
She could feel the gentle silk around her body, a strong arm holding her waist close to its body, and the other arm holding her other hand. Her feet shifted, following the strong leader in this dancing partnership.  
She could hear their fabrics rustle, soft music playing, and a man's voice slowly coming into focus in her ear; his breath warm and oddly familiar yet distant.  
"-so you can travel through the mirrors."  
"Sorry?"  
He sighed. "Only just woke up, Sarah?" He sighed again and was silent for a few more dark turns around the floor.  
"Words are magic, Sarah," the voice whispered finally.  
"What?"  
"Words have power. What is said is said, it cannot be undone. They cast spells, so many spells."  
"I see."  
"No you don't!" He said roughly. "And spells can only be reversed for a certain amount of time. One of your three, you fixed. Your brother is safe at home. One can never be reversed, and the last will become permanent the day after you become a woman."  
Sarah was confused. "Three?"  
"Yes. Three. I wonder if you can even remember what you said."  
"Maybe. When am I considered a woman?"  
"What's been said cannot be repeated, nor explained, Sarah. You play this game without knowing it, without even a thought for the rules. And now you are in this game until the end."  
"I see."  
He growled. "No, you don't," and he spun her roughly out.  
She paused, stretched as far as their limbs would allow, held on one toe for what was both forever and no time at all.  
And she saw.  
She saw the whole world, the whole universe. Galaxies spinning and dancing. Everything and nothing at once. Two lives twisting that couldn't part nor touch. Failures and hopes. And stars, the stars, it was never glitter, it was stars._  
Then Sarah woke up. And started writing.


	3. Grown Up

At twenty, Sarah was an established author. Her short stories, novels, and the occasional piece of theatre were slowly helping her creep to fame. She was still in college and studying English, still dreaming.  
She would wake up more nights than not when she awoke as if from a dream. The dreams often factored into her writing.  
Sarah dabbled in poetry, but it never went anywhere.  
Neither did her dates.  
Oh sure, having someone else pay to take her dancing, for dinner, to the movies, but the relationships never last. Some got farther than others. One actually got a proper snog before he mentioned how he wasn't interested in her writing.  
"You can stop that," he murmured and kissed her again.  
She smirked and drew back. "You can stop that. See you never, for that will be when I stop writing."  
As she locked the door behind the would-be, she could swear she heard laughter, a deep chuckle befitting a king.  
That night, she woke up at 2 am in what felt like the middle of a very important dream. But all attempts to gather it back were destroyed when a pebble hit her window.  
After chasing the recently broken-up with boy away again, Sarah sat down at her desk with a cup of tea and started to write a fiction based on the idea that a dream sent cannot repeat itself.  
But after a few minutes, she crumpled up the paper and threw it away. Booting up to her computer, she scribbled in her notebook as she waited. Now was as good a time as any to send an e-mail to her parents.  
When her e-mail finally sent, full of all the updated news and promises to finish school well, Sarah fell back asleep for an hour or two, several scribbled notes forming a new tale.


	4. No Chance (No Power)

_She felt as if she had merely blinked her eyes. She was, after all, in the same place as she'd been earlier.  
No, wait, she wasn't.  
There was someone else in bed with her.  
Sarah had a brief panic attack before her skin registered her pajamas, and the distinct different feel of the other's clothes against her arms.  
"Awake, precious?" the same tenor whispered in her ear.  
"Am I?" she responded, drawing a chuckle that tickled her cheek.  
"That's a very good question."  
Sarah shifted slightly, allowing him to move as well so that she was not pinning his arms. "Why do I feel as if you are a total stranger, yet I have known you my whole life?"  
"Because I'm both."  
"What kind of dream are you, that you are a stranger yet a love?"  
"The best kind," he murmured. "The real kind."  
That was when she rolled over and kissed him. It was a hesitant-to-passionate, tongue and all the toe-curling goodies kiss.  
"Sarah," he breathed. Quickly, he began to whisper, "Sarah, listen, that night, the other two spells you cast were-"_  
The clock read 2 am. As Sarah tried to recall the fading dream, there was a clink at the window. She leapt out of bed and cracked the window open.  
"Get out of here!"  
"But Sarah, take me back!"  
"Uh, no. Maybe if you had apologized for disapproving of my career and passion, but waking me up at 2 AM, spoiling a good dream and then costing me more literary ideas so I can feed myself, no chance. Now get off my lawn."  
As she slammed the window shut, she tried to remember what the dream was even about.


	5. Help Me

Two years later, after scribbling on a notebook, Sarah had expanded those notes into a novel. She graduated from college needing little.  
Eight year old Toby was there to party with her, as was her family.  
As her family helped her move into her new apartment, her step-mother pulled out box after box of things she'd saved for this moment. As Sarah hung curtains and organized drawers of utensils, she was so grateful. When everything was at least temporarily stored, Sarah wrapped her step-mother in a hug.  
"Thank you so much. It couldn't have been easy."  
"This moment makes it so."  
With many more hugs, kisses, and promises to write, Sarah was left alone in her apartment. She had two days before she and her girlfriends went on their "we're out of college" rafting trip. Grabbing a pen and pad of paper, she intended to make the most of it.

* * *

"I need your help," she whispered sadly to the mirror.  
It had been Sarah's sixth day on the job at the publishing house. And she was simultaneously a gopher and on sludge.  
She expected to be everyone's coffee girl first and work her way to sludge. She supposed since she was already a published author, they figured she knew what was worthy of publication. And it was a newbie's job to go through the piles of manuscripts that had no agent nor came from established authors.  
There was the occasional diamond in the rough.  
But everyone wanted to be Stephen King or Anne Rice. If there was an original, well-written idea, she'd make a few starter corrections and pass the manuscript up. If the manuscript wasn't good enough, Sarah would type up a nice letter saying "sorry, we're not interested. But here's how to make it better" and send the copy back.  
But the night before her first day, she had another vivid dream. And this one she remembered, and it brought the other two back.  
She remembered and she was frightened.  
"Lady Sarah?"  
"Sir Didymus!"  
"My how you've grown."


	6. One Word

_"Sarah?"  
She was sitting next to him on what felt like a couch.  
"Yes?"  
"I apologize. I spoiled what I'm sure was turning into a great dream."  
Sarah snickered. "It was. How is it I remember now, but not when I'm awake?"  
"It's in the rules. As was you waking when I tried to tell you too much. You must seek me in reality, Sarah. You cannot rely on your dreams."  
"How did I guess that was coming," she sarcastically muttered.  
"You're Sarah," he whispered in her ear. "You beat the Labyrinth. You can do anything. I believe in you. Yes, I do."  
The words were so familiar.  
"I know you. I know who you are. But I cannot- the words won't come."  
"No they won't," he murmured in her ear. "You and I have changed so much. But the game remains the same. Two lives that cannot separate yet cannot touch for as long as the game is played."  
"So let's end this."  
He growled softly. "Why, Sarah? Why can't we be?"  
"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't care."  
"Mmm, I have wanted you to say such for a long time."  
And they were dancing again, dancing in the dark. Feet moving in time together across a marble floor. It was a more complicated dance this time, and he led her faster and stronger through the movements.  
She kept up. She always kept up.  
"Sarah, my Sarah, I cannot say what I wish to say."  
"Nor can I. But I think we know what our thoughts are."  
He merely sighed as he spun her around.  
"Can you tell me, when does the game consider me a woman? After all, I am twenty-two now. Is the other spell permanent?"  
"No," he barely whispered. "No, it is still reversible."  
"And when I am a woman?"  
He was silent as they took a few turns about the floor. "I have already said the answer to your question. And dreams cannot be repeated. But the rules are not mine to make."  
"That I know."  
He spun her, twisted her, and dropped her into a shallow dip, where he pressed a kiss onto her lips. She reached up and deepened the kiss, opening herself up to him. Fingers tangling in each other's hair, their knees bent as they slowly sank to the ground. The pressure of his fingers-_  
Her alarm clock cruelly signaled 6 AM. But this time there was no frantic searching for the dream. It was all there in her memory. Along with the others.  
And she was afraid for there was one word, one name, one spell on her lips.  
"Jareth."


	7. Through the Looking Glass

"Yes, and you barely look a day older."  
This was a lie of course. Sir Didymus was showing the seven years of time. His whiskers and fur had greyed.  
"How is the Labyrinth?"  
"Splendid, m'lady, splendid. We repaired the bridge broken on our travels, but left the stepping-stones that fell there in case of future breaks. Ah, and His Majesty has become a much bettered temper. He has taken me on as a guard of his castle. And Hoggle is now gardening. Everything is going splendidly."  
"Wonderful, Sir Didymus. Thank you for the news."  
She didn't ask about Ludo. Sir Didymus had seemed to have forgotten that Ludo had placed the stones in the bog and Sarah wondered if the fox's age was taking his mind.  
"Any time Sarah."  
"Sir Didymus, may I come visit?"  
"Certainly. I'm not prepare to host but-"  
"I need to talk to Jareth."  
The fox seemed flustered for a moment. "As you wish, m'lady. Just step through your mirror. It's as easy as we came through."  
Sarah was doubtful. Twenty-two years did not tend to believe in fairy tales, even if they'd been bitten by a fairy as a youth. Still, Sarah reached forward.  
Her fingers slipped through the glass as if she had merely dipped her fingers in the holy water at a cathedral. Slowly, the rest of her followed and she stumbled into Sir Didymus's small room. "Continue down the hall, fair lady, and you shall find the King's throne room."  
"Thank you good sir knight," Sarah responded with a deep bow. "You have aided me greatly."  
The fox blushed as she hurried down the stairs.


	8. And What Jareth Said There

_"Jareth?"  
Oh God, he had never thought to hear her voice again.  
"Jareth."  
Dear Lord, no more dreams, no more dreams. No more her walking sleep. No more dancing when they could never truly touch-_  
"Jareth!"  
This was no dream. She stood behind him, behind his throne, but he did not move to face her.  
"Sarah."  
"Why doesn't Sir Didymus remember Ludo?"  
He sighed. "He is old, Sarah. Older than the seven years you've been gone and barely said hello. And time is taking its toll. I've managed to fight the more deadly sides of his disease, but it is better that he not remember his grief at such an age. It would finally kill him."  
"Grief? Jareth, where's Ludo?"  
"Gone." She was silent. "I conjured an apparition of you, in his last hours. Would you like the memory?" He casually tossed a crystal behind him.  
She caught it, and gazing into the shifting images, she saw herself sitting next to Ludo. He lay on his side, struggling for breath. As a familiar and slender hand reached for the false Sarah's shoulder, she dropped the crystal and it shattered.  
"I wasn't there," she barely whispered.  
"But he, Hoggle, and Sir Didymus believed you were. Hoggle would've noticed, but his eyesight has been failing him for a while."  
"Sir Didymus said he was your gardener."  
Jareth was surprised and said so. "The fox cannot usually remember others besides you and me if not in his sight."  
"Oh."  
Jareth allowed silence to fall.  
"I- I have other questions," she finally began, stepping around his throne to face him as he lazily sat in the simple shirt and tight pants she was sure Toby had nightmares of. "For starters-"  
He rose forcefully to his feet, his regal armor appearing on him. "No, Sarah. I will start. I will start with all I have wanted to say, and wanted to say for a long time. That night you wished your brother away, it's true. And you told your brother the story twice more, because that's what good older sisters do: they tell stories. Oh, you made sure never to wish Toby away, but you repeated the feeble spells three times. Did no one ever tell to never say things thrice?"  
His voice had risen in volume and he paused, for Sarah seemed about to object.  
"You said, every time you told the story, that I, the Goblin King loved you and gave you power. You made it true."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Sorry isn't good enough! Do you know what it's like to not have the choice to love someone, even when you already do, and for seven years they only care to visit you three times?" Sorrow was etched on the King's face. "And even then, only in dreams, where every touch is just real enough to want more but too fake to comfort?  
"And now, Sarah Williams," he started again before she could speak. "You become a woman when you have put all your child hood things behind you."  
"I have!" she interrupted. "I've moved out of my parents' house into my own apartment. I'm beyond my childhood room! Even when I moved into my dorm I put things away, finishing what I started the very night I returned home with Toby."  
"It's not all, Sarah. Because you also have to learn to let go of those you love most."  
"Oh," she murmured. "Well, Jareth, Goblin King of the Underground, you don't have to love me."  
A flicker of emotion crossed his face, as imperceptible as the wind yet as subtle as a thunderstorm. And in the wake of the wave, bitterness and sorrow was gone. "I know," he murmured softly, as the armor melted away again. He reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. "But I want to."


	9. Epilogue

It would be a lie to say things were easy after that first real kiss.  
It would be a lie to say things were difficult.  
But they were, for that's life.  
There were more dreams, more spells, more fights before the matter of when and where the wedding was, where they'd live, when they'd live there, how to administrate-  
The problems never cease, do they?  
But Sarah and Jareth, ruler of the goblins that live in the Underground, were happy. And their children had some of the best childhood memories.

* * *

"Sarah Williams, queen of my heart, will you do me the everlasting honor of being the Labyrinth's Queen?"  
"Mmm, no."  
Jareth cocked his head. "What?"  
Sarah giggled. "No, Jareth, I won't be the Labyrinth's Queen. But I'll certainly be your wife." She nudged him. "And rule next to you."  
He tsked playfully at her. "Technicalities, phrasings, Sarah my dear, what have I taught you?"  
As she dragged him off to meet her parents, Sarah laughed. "Whatever it is, you taught me well. But I figure I can teach you a few things."  
"Like what?"  
"For starters, ever heard of the Beatles?"

**Thanks for reading!**


End file.
